


Joy

by nerdy-flower (baconnegg)



Series: The Shimada Brothers Need Healing [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A couple quarters in the hanzo drama jar, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon disabled characters, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Hanzo's girl gang squad, Happy holidays to all and to all a good night, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, general silliness, good communication, meeting the parents kind of?, sibling shenanigans, tropey but it's Christmas gdi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower
Summary: The Shimada Bros Need Healing Christmas Special!Or, festive adventures in Hanzo's social awkwardness!Or, Hanzo spends Christmas with Jesse's family and it goes as you'd expect





	Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Context for anyone interested: The scenes with Hanzo, Amelie and Satya take place just prior to 'Crush', the scenes with Jesse and Hanzo take place a year later (after Zen and Hanzo's conversation in 'Warmth' and immediately after the driving through the snow scene in 'Honesty'). Gosh, this is just a modern AU, sorry for the wacky chronology!

Hanzo tucks the bucket of fried chicken under one arm as Satya knocks, smiling when Amélie sticks her head out into the dimly-lit apartment hallway. “Happy only paid day off work.” 

“Joyeaux Noël,” Amélie smirks in return, hoisting a splendid bottle of deep red wine. 

Amélie owns the sparse furniture typical of people who live alone although they can't entirely afford to do so. The rarely-used couch is still roomy enough for all three of them to stretch out comfortably and indulge in greasy drumsticks, MSG-soaked noodles, and the finest self-care products that only the intention of purchasing a better version of yourself can buy. 

“Why does every single person in this series speak as if they're reading off a cue card just behind the camera?” Satya squints, swishing her glass as Hanzo tugs the goopy foot-mask socks onto her slim feet. 

“Oh god, that's what it is,” Hanzo grimaces, pausing to sip his own drink, the astringent taste sticking to his teeth. “I've been trying to put my finger on it this entire time.” 

“Agreed, they're sacrificing good actors in the name of period accuracy.” Amélie folds herself cross-legged onto the couch and holds out a mug of melted blue. “Close your eyes and smell this.” 

Hanzo leans over and inhales, spearmint exploding into his nose. “Is it bad if I want to eat it?” 

“I don't think it counts as pika if it's actually edible,” Satya smiles, holding up her hand when Amélie offers. “No thanks, I can't stand the smell of mint.” 

“I'll save the coconut one for you,” Amélie says, waving Hanzo to sit on the floor in front of her and throwing an old towel around his shoulders. “But how do you deal with toothpaste, then?” 

“I order the cinnamon kind in bulk, because pharmacies don't cater to my kind.” 

“Are there dozens of you?” Hanzo grins, shivering as Amélie starts working the oil into his loose hair. The mint and heat mix into a thousand pinpricks of odd, addictively pleasant sensations. 

“Dozens!” Satya crows with pride, the three of them cracking up. “Will you do mine next?” 

“No, Hanzo does you and you do me. We have a system in place, Vaswani.” 

“Yes, don't break the chain. It's bad luck.” 

“Oh, well then, pardon me!” 

The heat from the large family cooking and banging around downstairs keeps the apartment comfortably warm. Hanzo feels the edges of vision soften as low laughter vibrates through his chest. With Amélie's nails scratching along his scalp and the volume low on the well-art-directed episode, he goes a few moments without thinking, until his phone buzzes on the coffee table. 

**JM:** Merry Christmas sweetheart <3 <3 <3 Sorry so late, it's been wild up here. 

**HS:** Merry Christmas xo 

**HS:** In what way? 

**JM:** Well Hana let us all try her new VR thing, then Ree and Olivia gave me a facewash in the backyard, now we're making dinner and only two things have caught fire 

Hanzo smiles to himself, heartened by the image of his boyfriend surrounded by his family, unwinding and enjoying himself. He's heard enough stories to know the closeness and the bustle as a distant memory. His envy is minimal, he's content here. Jesse's happiness becomes his own more often with each passing day. 

“Hey.” A heel to his shoulder. “We agreed no technological disassociating.” 

“You know what the penalty is,” Satya adds lightly, grinning as she tops off his glass. 

“I wasn't-” Hanzo begins his defence, but another text pops in and stalls him out. 

**JM:** Maybe next year you can come with me? I'd love to have you here <3 

*** 

The hours-long slog through the snow leaves them stiff and tired, shivering as they trudge up the well-salted walkway of the charming two-story farmhouse. Its barely-blue vinyl siding is spattered with the sticky snow that whistles all around them, lights glowing bright around the edges of the curtains and several cars sitting icy in the driveway. The door opens before they reach it, Gabe's slouching form lit from behind as he smiles. “There you are. Any later and we would have called the search and rescue team.” 

“Funny,” Jesse scoffs, shouldering his duffle bag so the two can share a surprisingly tender hug. His grin revives as they separate, gesturing to the pale pink, fuzzy pajama pants Gabe is sporting beneath the low waist of his black pullover. “Now that's a good look for you.” 

“The dryer isn't done yet,” comes the dry rebuttal, Gabe's glare without menace. Something in perpetually affable tenor of his voice and the worn-out softness in his eyes keeps him from being at all intimidating, despite the bulk of his frame indicating that he could probably still take someone on and win if needed. Even the scars dotting his limbs and neck don't tip the balance, a few cratering the surface of his face and one in the centre of his right cheek, deep and wide enough to reveal a glimpse of teeth. “Hurry up, you're heating the outside.” 

Hanzo's armful of wrapped packages and gift bags only permits a friendly shoulder-grip from the man as they stomp their boots free of snow, which he's grateful for. He's only met the rest of Jesse's family briefly, at an Eid Al-Fitr party at Fareeha's back in the summer, and he isn't sure if he's on hugging terms yet. “How have you been?” 

“Good,” Hanzo replies, always feeling like some sort of talking action figure at these things. Pull string, dispense anecdote. “Busy as usual. And you?” 

“Eh, the same,” Gabe smiles and helps Hanzo set the packages down on a padded bench beside the hall closet. A Lab mix trots up, nails loud on the hardwood as she makes a beeline for Hanzo, well-worn stuffed bear in her mouth. “Hey, Lulu, no jumping. We talked about that.” Gabe nods at Hanzo's request to pet her, instantly knowing who he'll be spending his time with when Jesse is busy. Though he's confused when he reaches for her toy and she backs away. “Oh yeah, you can't have her baby, she just wants to show it to you. It's how she says hi.” 

“I see.” Hanzo chuckles, spared from further small talk by Ana exiting the nearby kitchen with a stack of thin mints in her hand to embrace Jesse. It's hard not to be on hugging terms with the older woman, or not to feel warmed by Jesse's bending to sweetly smooch her cheek. 

“You look better than the last time I saw you,” Ana jokes, affectionately rubbing Hanzo's bicep as he shrugs off his coat. “Did you get over that flu alright?” 

“Ah, yes, I'm fully recovered now,” Hanzo's grin is sheepish. He made the mistake of inadvertantly walking past Jesse's video chat while desperately hungover and feigned illness to save face. The knowing gleam in Ana's eye indicates that she hadn't believed him, but there's still more kindness than snark in her tone. 

Jesse shepherds him down the hall towards Jack, who had missed the summer trip due to being laid up with some ailment or another. He's leaning against the wall, holding his phone with one earbud in and a frown creasing his face. “Hey, old man, this is Hanzo.” 

Jack looks up with a snort, and sticks his hand out in greeting. The first word that comes to Hanzo's mind is grizzled, with a diagonal scar bisecting his face and clipped white hair sticking out over a high forehead. His blue eyes are cloudy and his smile strained. He's dressed as if about to step out, but his feet are bare. “Nice to meet you. Jesse hasn't shut up about you for months.” 

“Aw, don't be like that,” Jesse laughs amicably as Hanzo very carefully stays the flush from his ears, or at least he thinks so. 

Jack's low laugh is surprisingly boyish for his gravelly voice. “How are the roads?” 

“Hellish, honestly,” Hanzo answers a bit too quickly. The man seems displeased, tapping around on his phone while he winces. 

“She'll be fine,” Gabe says from over Hanzo's shoulder, not exactly scolding but definitely exasperated. “She texted ten minutes ago, and the plows are out in force. She's being careful.” 

“Hana's not here yet?” Jesse asks, both of them surprised. Last they heard, she was doing some kind of shoot in a city way up north of them, expecting to arrive long before they did. 

“She had to stay late,” Jack grumbles, a synthetic voice buzzing through his loose earbud, reading out the weather report. “And she hasn't gotten to drive that car much in the winter-” 

“Because that institution that your hard-earned tax dollars subsidize cancels classes over a few flakes, we know.” Gabe interrupts, heading for the living room. “Come sit down before the wood burning between your ears sets off the smoke alarm.” 

Ana laughs and follows, Jack does neither. Hanzo is calculating a polite exit strategy when Jesse suddenly yelps and grabs his ear, wheeling around to face the staircase and curse in Spanish at a petite woman with shaved sides, purple-dipped hair and a vaguely maniacal giggle leaning over the railing in baggy black pajamas. “You must be Olivia.” 

“My reputation precedes me,” she grins, almost wolfish, and holds her hand out for a fistbump. “I like your style.” Then, to both of them. “By the way, don't come into my room for bit. My client is demanding a completely sealed environment and any violations may result in cavity searches. I can't even have my phone in there.” 

“They called you in now?” Jesse scowls, wet-willy evidently forgotten, if not forgiven. “That's horseshit, don't vacations mean anything anymore?” 

“Data breaches acknowledge no holidays, but don't worry.” She toes her slipper back on and heads back upstairs. “I'm charging triple my normal rate, prepaid!” 

“That's my girl!” Gabe calls from the next room. 

“Alright, duerma bien, then.” Jesse yells up after her. They reheat the meals Gabe had wrapped in tin foil for them and come to rest on the enormous living room couch beside Ana and Fareeha, who is elevating her badly-injured knee on the reclining end. It's the reason she got out of her turn at being overseas for the holidays this year, but she's half-gone on pain meds, only able to offer some clumsy shoulder pats and a gentle “Hey, losers.” 

The wall-mounted flatscreen plays some vaguely holiday-related action film while they collectively vegetate and eat in silence. Jack is still pacing in the kitchen, Gabe and Ana keep sending frowning glances in his direction. Hanzo nearly devours the doughy, homemade pizza and studies the room. A decently big, real tree stands beside the front window with so many ornaments and lights that the greenery is barely visible, their gifts now added to the shining, ribboned bounty beneath. Lulu attends to Jack, but a scruffy orange tabby (named Felix, Hanzo is told), warms Fareeha's lap as she fights to stay awake, tucked rather adorably against her mother's side. Jesse and Gabe sit on his right, their sock feet on the coffee table, Gabe's knitting needles clicking away as he works on what appears to be a vivid green scarf. 

There's an electric fireplace on the opposite wall, flickering low and warming the room. The old-fashioned mantle holds a rather patchwork, slightly graffitied nativity scene, a neat row of stockings, as well as photos and trinkets that similarly fill the surrounded bookshelves. He thinks to take a closer look at them tomorrow just as the door swings open, cold air blasting in. 

“Merry frickin' Christmas, everyone!” Hana shouts, the sound of her boots being kicked off and bags dropping distinctly frustrated, a glimpse at his phone showing it to be nearly one. He looks over his shoulder at the same time Gabe and Jesse do, glimpsing Jack's wide smile before Hana fairly tackles him for a hug. They begin chattering away at each other in Korean and Hanzo shares a fond smile with Jesse. 

The young woman virtually vaults herself to bed after saying her hello's and everyone follows suit. The main lights are flicked off as Hanzo and Jesse carry their bags down the brightly-lit, carpeted basement stairs. He notices a computer desk tucked into the alcove beside the stairs, a den with another TV and multiple game systems, and a deep freezer in an open storage room before passing out nearly the second he undresses and hits Jesse's bed. 

The morning brings the warmth of his lover's body wrapped around his own, the sheets pilled with age beneath them. The chilly basement air makes him cling as he lays awake. Jesse's room retains the dated wood panelling that seems original to the house, fraying posters of bands and movies Hanzo mostly doesn't recognize covering most of it. A desk sits free of dust in one corner, dotted with souvenirs from abroad. The doorless closet would probably bother Hanzo tonight, now that he's properly rested, still full of clothes that seem too small for the man snoring at his side. Even the grey carpet, with its worn spots and suspicious burn scars, offers a glimpse of the young man Jesse used to be. 

Hanzo crawls up onto the pillows then, tracing over handsome, freckled features. A touch to Jesse's nose seems to wake him, his eyes blearily peeping open. He smiles slowly and captures Hanzo's lips first. The kiss is dry and stale-tasting, but Hanzo has learned to love these moments. His mind wanders and he grins into the kiss, prompting a soft laugh. “What?” 

“If I were to look under this bed, would I find your old stash of dirty magazines?” 

“Fuck no, I took those with me and threw 'em out when I got my own Internet.” Jesse grins, pressing deceptively sweet kisses to Hanzo's cheek. “Why? What're you thinkin' about?” 

“Oh, nothing,” Hanzo demures, nuzzling beneath the layered blankets to brush lips along Jesse's neck. “Just you, all alone down here.” He pauses to suck lightly over his pulse. “With the door locked, imagining someone touching you...” 

“Goddamn,” Jesse snorts, shivering faintly. “I can't tell if you're raring to go over the thought of me ten years younger, or doin' me in my dad's basement.” 

“Neither,” Hanzo rises to kiss Jesse slow and deep. He prefers his lover soft and learned, scars and all. Footsteps thump upstairs and voices echo through the heating vent over the bed. “Perhaps we should stash this line of thought for later.” 

“Christmas Eve sex, hm?” Jesse flops onto his back and stretches. He affectionately gropes Hanzo's ass through his briefs as he sits up on the side of the bed to do the same. “I thought you left your special gift for me back home?” 

“I did,” Hanzo insists, turning back to smirk at him. “And if you tie a bow, mistletoe, or anything else on your dick, I'll find another ride home and change the locks.” 

Jesse guffaws and reluctantly moves to get dressed for the day. “Santa doesn't bring gifts to kids with mouths like that, sugar.” 

Hanzo lumbers up to the kitchen after a stop in the restroom, finding Jesse has joined Olivia and Hana in dancing to the disco-esque music blasting from the small CD player shoved into the corner beside the microwave. Well, dancing might be a liberal interpretation. It's more like they're lazily punching the air and shifting from foot to foot while the coffee brews in the borderline-cyberpunk machine on the counter. 

“Oh shit, is that Boney M?” Fareeha stumbles into the scene, one hand scratching an itch under her tank top, half her hair completely frizzed up. “I can't believe that thing still works.” 

“It's sustained by the spirit of these Christmas tunes,” Hana explains, eyes still puffy with sleep. “Get in here, feel the Christmas flow through you.” 

“Alright,” Fareeha's jaw pops audibly on a yawn as she hobbles over on her crutch. “C'mon, Hanzo. Let's do this.” 

“I'm good, thanks.” Hanzo leans against the fridge and continues watching in befuddled amusement. He only just notices Gabe sneaking around the corner, phone in hand, when the coffee maker dings and everyone ceases their hip-shaking in favour of elbowing each other to get at the mugs. 

“Awh,” Gabe chuckles, dragging a hand over his scruffy jaw. “How am I supposed to embarrass any of you at your weddings if you won't let me film anything appropriately humiliating?” 

“Here's an idea; don't.” Jesse pushes a steaming mug into Hanzo's hand, prompting his daily rush of caffeine-based gratitude that he is unable to fully express. Blessedly, he is surrounded by individuals of a similar make, and no one attempts conversation until the coffee is half-gone and Jack appears, Lulu in tow. 

“Should be done in forty minutes or so” he declares upon unwrapping and prodding the tinfoil-covered dough on the counter. “Hope no one minds brunch?” A grumble of agreement rises up, everyone half-disappeared into their phones. “Cool. Lulu, open the oven.” 

The aging pup happily obeys, yanking on the dishtowel knotted around the handle so Jack can slide the large braided loaf inside. “Is she a service dog?” As soon as Hanzo asks he's overcome with the urge to jam his artificial foot in his mouth. What an obnoxious question. 

“Not quite,” Jack snorts, brandishing pans as if preparing to do battle with the stove. “She was supposed to be, but she flunked out because they couldn't get her to ignore people and other dogs when she was in her vest, so she ended up in a normal shelter. Still knows the commands, though.” 

“Except she only does them when she feels like it, right girl? Right?” Gabe pulls her close to pat her ribs and smooch her snout. Hanzo pats her head when she goes around snuffling for food from everyone. He's never had a dog, but he'd like one as calm and sweet as this one. Conversation swirls around him as he works on his coffee, the smells of cooking making his stomach growl. Jesse occasionally touches his shoulder or his knee, mindlessly showing affection. 

“I was just talking to your dad,” Ana says to Fareeha, taking the seat between her and Hanzo. “He said your cousins are coming for New Year's, so you might want to pick up something for them.” 

“Ughhhhh,” Fareeha groans, a childish tone taking over. “They drive me nuts. They do that twin telepathy thing, I swear they use it to talk shit about me.” 

“I know, but be nice,” Ana gathers her sweater tighter, already dressed for the day. “They've had a tough year.” 

“Ughhhhh,” Fareeha groans, but more nuanced this time. 

“How are your parents doing?” Jesse asks Jack when he comes around to dish out skillet strips. 

“Good,” he replies, mopping some grease from the festive-print tablecloth with the dishtowel tucked into his sweatpants. “They're on a beach somewhere in the Caribbean right now. I've got more challah and stuff if you want it, Mom sent me home with three freezer bags, she mailed Hana a whole box of treats, too.” 

“No complaints!” Hana chimes in. “I wish she'd learn how to turn off caps lock though. I offered her free tech support for her birthday.” 

“Hey, be nice, she just wants ensure you're both fed and reading her emails.” Gabe swallows a mouthful of chicken bacon and gets up when Felix starts yowling at the dishes by the pantry. “Why do you do this every time I start eating? Every day with this.” 

“You realize that by feeding him first you're telling him he's the alpha?” Olivia comments while sneaking a strip off Jesse's plate. “Now he'll think he's in charge.” 

“Hey! Paws off!” Jesse lightly jabs her hand with his fork. Olivia stabs his hand in turn, though they both continue eating unfazed. 

“He shits in a box in the closet and we clean it up, he is in charge. Pardon my reach,” Jack leans over to set down a bowl of clementines. 

“Did you see the thing I linked you to?” Hana says across the table as Jesse starts telling Olivia a story in more Spanish than Hanzo can catch with his making-Language-Bird-cry competence. “I thought I woke you up last night, I was laughing so hard!” 

“No, my phone's been updating, show me!” Fareeha has to stretch, her chair scraping loudly as she grabs Hana's phone, a video already playing at ear-piercing volume. 

“...going, Hanzo?” 

Hanzo blinks back into his own head at the touch to his shoulder and grimaces politely at Ana. “Sorry, I didn't catch that.” 

“No kidding,” the older woman smiles at him, merely amused as she sips her tea. Customer service gigs have turned Hanzo into a bit of a lip-reader, so he hears her this time over the din of voices and cooking and keening animals. “How are your courses are going?” 

“Oh, good!” Hanzo smiles, surprised she remembered something like that. “I just finished a colour theory class and I signed up for an open studio class starting next month. I hope my manager doesn't ignore my request in the schedule.” 

“He had better not. What do you learn in that one?” 

“Ah, it's more of an opportunity to develop a piece and get feedback. You're free to do whatever you wish with what you bring and what's there, essentially.” He thinks to mention the figure drawing classes he's been going to, regularly for a change, at the library, but he doubts she's that interested. He talks to Jesse enough about them as is. 

Ana's smile is genuine, her free hand resting on the back of his chair. “Very good! Do you know what you're going to make?” 

“Hm, not yet. I'll think of something in the first week, I'm sure.” 

“You'll have to show me. Maybe what I got you will come in handy,” Ana teases, accepting a piece of challah dripping with egg from Jack's serving plate. “Are you going to sit down now and quit fussing?” 

“I'm not fussing, I'm cooking,” Jack gripes back, much more humour in his tone than last night. “Not like anyone else volunteered.” 

“That's grunt work,” Fareeha interjects snidely, her cheek bulging with orange slices. 

“Pft, what-ever, chair force.” Jack barely dodges her elbow jab as he passes her chair, the two smirking at each before he finally finishes his rounds and takes the empty seat beside Gabe. 

Hanzo bites into the bread, has a brief, mildly life-changing sensory experience, and elects to fall back on his manners. “This is really good, thank you for making it.” 

“Sixty percent credit to Ma Morrison, but thanks,” Jack smiles behind the hand he's leaning on, nudging Gabe with his knee. “See? Someone appreciates my skills.” 

Gabe huffs while neatly cutting his food into small pieces. “I show my appreciation for your skills every day.” 

“Having a bad case of noassitol isn't a skill,” Ana adds, making Jesse and Olivia snort which Hanzo copies a moment later. 

“Don't listen to her,” Gabe clumsily pats Jack's cheek while mopping up some of the egg from his plate. “You're beautiful on the inside or some bullshit.” 

Jack sighs in the tone of a man resigned and holds both hands out in an almost political gesture. “What am I, the house whipping boy?” 

“Nah, you'd like that too much.” 

“I would not.” 

“That's not what I heard.” Ana grins, peeling her orange in one continuous strip. 

“What did you hear? From who?” 

No food goes uneaten and Hanzo grows more comfortable with his role of tourist, in-jokes flying by him alongside friendly insults that remind him of the rare moments spent with only Genji and his parents when they were young. Families are the same everywhere, he supposes. 

“Okay, so it turns out we need toilet paper, cream, and a big bottle of rum.” Gabe returns to the living room where they've been digesting their brunch babies and staring into the void of holiday cable television. “Who wants to venture out into the screaming masses?” 

“Dibs, I need smokes.” 

“Also dibs, let's take my car,” Fareeha tries to climb out of the beanbag chair she claimed and fails spectacularly. “Fuck, I fought my centre of balance and it won.” 

“Great job.” Jesse laughs, hoisting himself out of his reclined position on the couch and touching Hanzo's shoulder. “You good here, hon?” 

“Ah, yeah,” Hanzo replies, feeling like the question answered itself. He can't deny Jesse alone time with his family, however boring he might be without use of him as a social shield. Jesse kisses the cheek Hanzo presents to him, frees Fareeha from the beanbag's clutches, and the two aren't out the door more than ten seconds before the bay window vibrates with the operatic tones of AC/DC. Soon followed by the sound of tires skidding backwards down the driveway, onto the country road and off into the dreary winter afternoon. 

“I swear, those two,” Gabe murmurs as he shrugs on his coat. “I should be back by six unless one of the kids needs a lift home.” 

“Have fun,” Jack stands up, the two sharing a distracted wave as Jack heads upstairs mumbling about a lie-down. Jesse mentioned during one of his rambling tales that Gabe proposed at some point after they moved up here, but neither of them are wearing rings. Hana had dubbed Gabe 'her dad's weird roommate' on her vlog channel. One aspect of his family Hanzo doesn't particularly want to revisit is his parents being the odd ones out of dozen of sets of adults abjuring divorce for the convenience of unified assets and not dying alone. He could ask Jesse in private, but none of this is his business. He's only a guest. 

Hana and Olivia disappear down into the basement to play some sort of dance VR game, Ana following and insisting they teach her how to play. Hanzo isn't sure if he's supposed to go along and ends up alone on the couch with the dog. 

Lulu blinks at him, tongue peeping out, and trots over to lay in front of the fire, tucking herself into a rather adorable ball. He looks outside to where the perfect Christmas-card snow has blanketed everything in crisp white, only marred by two sets of tire tracks. He decides then that being useful is better than dissociating into the Internet. 

The driveway is much longer than their barely-bigger-than-a-parking-space one at home, but the shovel leaning next to the garage has one of those extra handles in the middle that spares his back beautifully. The repetitive movement keeps him warm, skin singing with cold beneath his coat and breath steaming away the barely-there flakes drifting down and sticking to his hair. He even cleans off their car after locating the spare key in all his pockets, though it's likely to snow again before Boxing Day night. It's almost enjoyable. He can contentedly sink into his thoughts, the neighbours far enough away that the only sounds are the crunch of shovel and boots against the snow. 

He spots Jack eyeballing him from the kitchen as he heads back in, nose running non-stop and all exposed skin stung rosy. The gruff older man leans into the hall as he tugs off his wet outerwear. “You didn't- did you shovel the whole thing?” 

“I think so?” Hanzo honestly couldn't be sure how wide it was in some places, the land around the house is flatter than the EKG readout on his future. 

“Ah,” Jack halts, rubbing the back of his neck and looking properly sheepish. He makes several gestures before finally speaking. “There's uh, we have a snowblower. In the garage.” 

“Oh,” Hanzo mirrors the awkward pose, laughing softly. “Well, I don't mind. I won't get to work out until we go back, so it's for the best.” 

“Heh, good point. Still, I feel like an ass,” Jack's eyes light with an idea and he turns on his heel. “C'mere, I'll make it up to you.” 

Hanzo follows curiously, only to be presented with a wooden spoon and emptied mixing bowl, both covered in a layer of buttercream frosting. “All yours, but don't tell them-” As if on cue, a chorus of shouts and laughter erupts from the basement. “Or you might find yourself challenged to trial by combat.” 

Hanzo snickers, then spends several seconds too long wondering if he should sit or stand. Jack has his back to him, methodically icing a freshly-baked rack of cookies that Hana cut up after the morning dishes. His tongue is sugary but still, lacking in conversation starters. While he sits in silence, Jack clears his throat. “So, what's your brother up to these days?” 

A light flicks on in Hanzo's brain, reminding him that Genji has not only met Jesse's family many more times, but spent the holidays here once. He briefly wonders if they're disappointed by Jesse's taste in Shimadas. “Well, Christmas is more of a romantic holiday back h- where we're from, so he's spending it with his boyfriend.” As well as handing out food and gifts to low-income families at Zenyatta's workplace, but it somehow feels too much like- bragging to mention that bit. 

“Making googly eyes at each other, huh?” Jack chuckles, twisting the frosting bag tighter. “He used to be real quiet, Jesse says he never shuts up now.” 

“Haha, yeah.” Hanzo's eyes drop to the bowl, scraping up as much icing as he can. More shouts and music echo up the stairs. “What do you like to do, these days?” 

“Security consulting. Not overly thrilling, but it keeps me busy.” Jack sniffs and sets the first tray aside, carrying on with his icing. Hanzo takes another bite of the buttercream remnants,- much too good to be from a mix -his spoon scraping loudly against the plastic. “So-” 

“Jesus Christ on ice, it's a fuckin' zoo out there!” Jesse crows as he stumbles through the front door, Fareeha thumping in after him, a sound Hanzo's never been more grateful to hear. “Stood in line for twenty minutes, then I sent 'Ree out to the car-” 

“And it took him another half-hour to get out!” Fareeha finishes, unwinding her long scarf and tossing it on the hooks. “I could have gotten McDonald's and come back by then!” 

“Didn't bring any fries to share, did you?” 

“How you holdin' up, sugar?” Jesse leans down for a cold smooch and seems confused when Hanzo twitches back, not comprehending his head-jerks in the others' direction. 

“We were weak with hunger and bereft of spirit, they barely survived the drive-thru exit.” Fareeha shuffles over to Jack's side, stealing a cookie. “Yoink!” 

“Hey, there's no sprinkles on them yet!” Jack groans when Jesse steals one from his other side. “Have either of you ever waited a goddamn minute?” 

Hanzo rinses the remaining icing from the bowl to a muttered “Thanks, kid” from Jack, which he isn't sure how to feel about, and trails after the siblings. Rhythm games have been abandoned in favour of some jumpscare horror game that Olivia plays without blinking, to Hana's frequent screams and Ana's immense enjoyment. The rest of them lean on the arms of the barely-standing couch to watch and flinch. Jesse's hand brushes his accidentally and he clasps it tight for a moment. 

Gabe returns from the youth centre just in time for dinner, bearing a Santa hat and half the hair he left with. “I told them they could buzz it if they beat me at Horse. They actually got it pretty even, I might leave it like this.” 

“Hey Jesse, can I get a hand putting this back up?” Olivia exits the kitchen with the repaired tree topper in hand, groaning and flipping him off when he lightly claps his flesh hand against his metal one. “Jesus, you're like a dad with no kids.” 

“Why thank you, I try.” Jesse grins wide, opting to bend and wrap his arm around his sister's thighs, lifting her with a soft 'hup' so the angel can be posted atop the tree for good this time. The oven slams shut and Ana calls out that dinner will be ready in an hour. Lulu's ears perk up at the mention of food, but she quickly melts back into Hanzo's lap as he stretches to rub her entire belly, his phone propped neatly on her ribs. “So, are we having our rematch this year, or nah?” 

“Depends,” Olivia smirks, brushing her hair out of her face with her long nails. “Think you can take me one-on-one?” 

Jesse's face twists into an expression dangerously reminiscent of the one Genji wears while on Rainbow Road at 150cc. “Damn straight I can. Think y'can handle me without backup?” 

“Oh, I am _not_ being left out of this!” Fareeha hops into the hallway, her crutch apparently entirely optional. “I'll be the turret. No checking, no below the belt, it's on.” 

“Okay then, órale wey, vamos. Hana!” Olivia hollers down the hall while Jesse goes for their coats. “Get out here! Jesse's ass is grass and we're gonna mow it!” 

“You wanna referee, babe?” Jesse chuckles over Hana's distant shouts. 

“Only if I can do it from inside.” The cold seeped into his joints while he was shovelling, and now he's beginning to pay for it. 

“Fair enough.” Jesse removes his arm and leaves it on the coffee table, tucking the empty sleeve into his pocket as Hana thunders to her boots, already in her pajama pants but seemingly unconcerned. “Backyard, lessgo!” 

“I'll salt the potatoes when I get back, Mum. Gotta defend my honour!” Fareeha shouts over her shoulder before hobbling after the others.

“You do that, dear.” Hanzo can't help but laugh at Ana's dry tone. 

He's instructed to keep a ten minute timer and signal from the back door when their preparation window is up. What follows is absolute pandemonium, a veritable snow-artillery exchange that hides Lulu's dainty paw prints under a mess of snowballs and sprayed pine needles from the trees that frame the yard, lit by the fairy lights strung from the gutters and the enormous porch light. Hanzo leans on Hana's shut bedroom door and admires the chaos from a safe, warm distance. 

“If one of them takes an ice ball to the face, they can drive themselves to the ER.” Gabe seemingly apparates at his side, feet muffled by thick slippers and knitting needles clutched in his hand. His smile grows as he watches Fareeha's hat get knocked off by a particularly well-aimed shot. 

He looks older than his age, Hanzo observes out of the corner of his eye. Something in the weight of his stare, he thinks, fond though it is. Grey peeks out from beneath his tuque, more scars are revealed as the furnace blows heat through the vent beside them and he rolls up his sleeves. Legitimate bullet holes, gashes, and a broad rectangle of flesh long since lifted away from his forearm to be grafted elsewhere. Kind as he's been, Hanzo can easily picture him as formidable under the right circumstances. 

“By the way,” Hanzo pauses, almost wincing when the older man glances his way. He's obliged to say it at some point, might as well pick the least-bad moment. “Amélie wanted to pass on her regards, she hopes you and Jack are doing well.” 

“Oh,” Gabe replies, youth pouring into his rasping voice as he drags his gaze back to the window. Hana has somehow climbed onto Olivia's back and they're charging full-speed towards Jesse while Fareeha tries to whip snowballs at them double-time. “So she is there, shit.” 

He lets the silence linger, watching Gabe's teeth tighten visibly, his knitting getting stuffed into the front pocket of his pullover. “I hope she knows I'm not avoiding her for my own benefit. I don't- I'd rather not be the one to bring back the ghosts, you know?” 

Hanzo nods, tightening his arms around himself as the furnace shudders and blows cool air over them. “She guessed as much. She said she wouldn't mind a visit, though.” His lips thin as he chooses his words. “She- hasn't exactly made an excess of friends.” 

“No, I guess- fuck.” Gabe drags a hand down his face, the slightest simmer of anger bubbling beneath a crust of exhaustion. “I feel much worse for her than for Gérard, honestly. He signed up for it, she didn't. And to go after people's families is-” He sucks a hard breath through his nose and blows out, brown eyes awash in memory. “She was so young, they both were. It's utter bullshit, that's all.” 

“Agreed,” Hanzo replies, little else to offer. His own pain blooms in his mind, scenes of blood and glimpses of evil, remarkably insignificant in comparison. “I can give you her number later, maybe?” 

“Yeah, sure thing.” Gabe shifts his weight while the kids mash slush into each other's hair. “Is she still dancing?” 

“Yes, she's getting her teaching credentials re-assessed, actually.” 

“That's good. I'm glad.” Gabe nods one last time before the four plunge back inside, soaked from head to toe with noses sticky and red. “Who won?” 

“We did!” Hana proudly declares, one pink-mittened fist in the air. 

“That was a stalemate and you know it!” Fareeha wheezes, Jesse grabbing her by the waist when she trips, drawing attention to the couple inches she has on him though he has years on her. 

Hanzo lets the bickering become background noise as he helps Jesse out of his freezing jacket, refusing sympathy when he whines about having to peel off wet blue jeans. After drying out and dinner, Hanzo joins the others on the living room floor while Jack, Gabe, and Ana take the short end of the L-couch. As one present for each person is selected, he finally notices one of the stockings hanging from the mantle has his name neatly embroidered into it. More surprising are the multiple gifts addressed to him, similar in size to the others, the wrapping jobs almost professional. 

“You're like Michelangelo,” Jack jokes as Gabe examines the bag of wool Jesse bought him, an abundance of pretty reds and yellows. “You see a project in every hunk of yarn.” 

“Damn right I do. This one's gonna be a nice set of tea towels, for starters. Thanks, Jess.” Gabe glances over as Jack starts working his thumb into the muscle of his jaw. “You okay? You need-” 

Jack waves his hand dismissively as Ana takes her turn, opening's Hanzo's because her other gifts are apparently all connected. “Nah, s'just the TMJ again. I'm fine.” 

“Ooh, what's this?” Ana pulls the deep blue scarf, screenprinted pale butterflies fluttering across it, out of the re-appropriated online shipment box. “How nice! Did Jesse let you in on my obsession?” 

“He did,” Hanzo chuckles. “Maybe you'll eventually have one for each day of the year.” 

“I like how this kid thinks,” Ana smiles, balling up the paper and tucking the scarf aside, saying she'll wear it tomorrow. 

Fareeha gets a pretty pair of stained glass earrings from Olivia, and she receives a new wristguard in turn from Fareeha. Jesse gets new boxers from Gabe that he's genuinely excited about, and Hanzo opens his own, a set of gloves, hat, and scarf all in dark blue. Gabe helpfully offers to tweak them if they don't fit well. 

“Can I be a jerk and give Dad his big gift now?” Hana asks after Hanzo kindly thanks Gabe, fidgeting on the carpet beside him. “I might not sleep if I don't, I've been waiting two whole months!” 

Hana's wrapping skills are haphazard, but the box is cleverly weighted with miscellaneous objects, only holding a few pieces of paper. Printed in large type are reservations at an expensive-sounding hotel in Busan, starting in February. “I got them dirt cheap through a brand deal! Now we can go back! We just need-” 

Jack presses a hand to his face and starts laughing in disbelief, the chuckling continuing until he convinces Hana to open her own big gift, a set of plane tickets for the same dates. Hana clambers onto the arm of the sectional to fasten her arms tightly around his neck, Jack pushing his face over his daughter's shoulder to shoot a fond glare. “Did Gabe ask you to book enough for four people, too?” 

Hana turns, snark hiding the wet sheen in her eyes. “He did!” 

“You magnificent bastard.” 

“Hey, someone had to keep you two from Gift-of-the-Magi-ing each other,” Gabe beams with pride, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. “Besides, I can keep him amused while you go have fun with your girlfriend.” 

Hana's delight cracks into flustered despair. “Brigitte is not my girlfriend!” 

“Did I say Brigitte?” Gabe's grin takes on a light that adds a certain shudder to both Hanzo and Jesse's laughter. 

“Wait- Brigitte Lindholm?” Ana's head snaps around. “You're dating Torb's daughter? No way!” 

“Oh my god, we are not dating!” Hana throws her arms in the air, her feet anchoring her to the upholstery like an owl. “We're literally just friends! I don't even know if she likes girls!” 

“Straight girls don't wear suspenders,” Fareeha states with utmost seriousness, sipping her cocoa and leaving a whipped cream moustache behind. 

Olivia nods along emphatically beside her. “She's right, you've got this in the bag.” 

“I don't mind if you bring your girlfriend, honey. I wouldn't want-” 

“ _Auuuuuuuuugh,_ I just, I just, I just-” Hana's voice grows increasingly frantic as she climbs down, lifts the holly-print table runner on the coffee table and crawls underneath while everyone cracks up. Jack reaches out with his sock foot to pat her slipper in a consoling fashion and Hanzo passes her a cookie from the tin he'd been handed at some point and wasn't sure what to do with so felt compelled to keep holding, which she gratefully accepts. 

Gabe heads to the kitchen to crack open the rum while Fareeha crawls into the recliner and cues up another holiday special on the TV. Jesse's attempt at stealing a spot on the couch results in him getting hip-checked almost into the tree by Olivia as she volleys herself into a full-body sprawl in the middle. Hana scrambles up to grab the remaining space while Jesse recovers and shouts towards the kitchen, affecting a purposefully childish tone while holding his side. “Dad! Me sigue chingando!” 

“Y qué?” Gabe answers back in a tone that reveals a total deficit of fucks given. 

“You love us!” Fareeha sing-songs while all three sneer up at him. 

“Man, fuck you guys,” Jesse scowls and 'oof's into the beanbag chair, Hanzo sinking down beside him. 

“Speaking of girlfriends,” Ana pipes up. “What's that Angela of yours up to, anyway?” 

“She's not _my-_ she's visiting with her brother all week. He flew in from Geneva.” Fareeha sinks into the collar of her hoodie as Hana encourages Lulu up and tosses a blanket over them. “Maybe we'll spend New Year's together? I miss her, we don't get to spend enough time together.” 

“Because you're both workaholics,” Jesse adds, taking a gingerbread man to the face that he and Hanzo split down the middle. 

“New Year's resolution idea: batch-cook on Sundays and make her lunches for the week,” Olivia jabs a finger towards Fareeha, eyes on her phone. “Keep it up and she'll become subconsciously dependent on you.” 

“Oooh, good strategy,” Hana nods, tugging the blanket up to her chin and similarly scrolling. 

“What the fuck is wrong with both of you?” Fareeha side-eyes them, aiming the remote sideways at the TV to make the buttons work. “Also no one's spoken up and I've scrolled through all the pages, so we're watching the Muppet Christmas Carol. Deal with it.” 

Gabe returns with a tray of glasses and a bottle of good-smelling rum, the kind he's often tasted on Jesse's lips. “Do you drink, Hanzo?” 

“Oh yes, almost too much.” He hopes for a laugh and instead gets more of a snort and a confused eyebrow arch. He takes a glass and sips in silent gratitude. Fuck. 

A little snow collects outside as the special plays, the fireplace heating the room to soporific levels as they relax in the glow of the tree. Jack nods off first in the crook of Gabe's arm, snoring softly with his arms crossed over his chest. Hana laughs and snaps a picture of them. “Dad always falls asleep during movies, even in the theatre. I can't take him anywhere anymore.” 

“No kidding,” Gabe snickers, polishing off Jack's drink for him. “The last film he made it to the credits of was _I Know What You Did Last Summer._ ” 

Ana makes a genuinely offended noise from her blanket and sweater nest in the corner. “That movie was shit!” 

Jack jerks awake with a grunt, but Gabe pats his chest. “Nothing. Go back to sleep, you big baby.” 

“Hrmph.” Jack frowns but nods off again almost immediately, head lolling onto Gabe's shoulder while his fingers scratch along the white fluff of Jack's scalp. 

Hanzo finds himself yawning and doing the same, the lovely heat of Jesse's body seeping into his side, the curve of his shoulder shaking gently beneath Hanzo's cheek as he laughs softly at the on-screen antics. Maybe he'll just rest his eyes for a second- 

“Jesse.” Hanzo blinks to find the TV and all the lights off but the tree, everyone gone save Gabe leaning over them, nudging the beanbag chair with his foot. He claps near Jesse's ear to try and rouse him but he keeps on dozing, arm around Hanzo's shoulders and his chin nearly touching his chest. “C'mon, Jess. Time for bed, let's go.” 

Hanzo cringes at a pop in his stiff shoulder and gently elbows his boyfriend. “Wake up, Jesse.” 

Jesse groans and sits up straight, rubbing his eyes. “Oh shit, sorry. What time's it?” 

“Only ten-thirty, someone's getting old.” Gabe laughs and offers them both a hand up. His calloused hands are deathly cold, much like Amélie's. Hanzo is glad that Jesse doesn't have Raynaud's syndrome, as it would put quite a damper on things. 

“I should take a shower,” Hanzo frowns at the greasy texture of his hair when he pulls it free of its painfully-tight elastic. 

“You can use ours,” Gabe offers, scratching the dog's head on his way into the kitchen with stained, empty glasses tight to his chest. “Second door on the left upstairs, there's a chair in there if you need it. Can you let Lulu out first, though?” 

“Of course, no problem.” Hanzo nods, chuckling when the pup is instructed to follow him to the back door with a snap of Gabe's fingers. 

Jesse helps Gabe clean up and sidles up behind Hanzo just as he's letting her back in, hand on his waist. “Mind if I join ya, angel?” 

“Of course not,” Hanzo answers tartly, taking the question in jest until Jesse scowls, hand dropping away as he turns towards the basement. Lulu licks his hand and trots upstairs with a wag of her fluffy tail. Goddammit- okay. Shower, disappear into his head for ten minutes, come back with a less-assholeish response. One step at a time. 

Coherent thought never comes quite as easily under the shower's spray as he hopes, though the refinished bathroom and the shower chair both offer more comfort than he can fully appreciate. He abhors how set in routine he's become, the unusual scent of the body wash enough to throw off his train of productive thought. Make it that much easier to ride the carousel of _you're a disaster and here's why_ that his brain helpfully powers on for him. 

Belatedly, he realizes he never grabbed his pajamas. In his unnecessary frustration, he decides to chance it in a towel since the whole hallway was dark, everyone either tucked in or carrying on in Olivia's room. His clothes balled under one arm, he errs in opening the door that leads to Gabe and Jack's bedroom rather than the hallway, finding Jack supine and shirtless in bed, Gabe at his side with his coat on, kissing him square on the lips. 

The hot rush of stupidity freezes him for a split-second. “Shit. Sorry.” He shuts the door with a hard click and leaves as fast as his prosthetics will softly carry him, hearing them crack up in his wake. 

Jesse's eyebrow twitches up when Hanzo walks in, leaning against the wall while he finishes a cigarillo and tipping his head up to blow clouds into the open window well. Hanzo pointlessly turns his back while hauling his pajama shorts on in the too-small room, dropping to the edge of the mattress to remove his prosthetics again, where Jesse joins him. 

“I'm not trying to pick a fight,” Jesse starts, smoky voice betraying a certain degree of disappointment. “But did I do something to piss you off, or what?” 

“No, it isn't you, it's-” Hanzo scrubs a hand over his face. _Don't say something stupid. He brought you all the way up here, you can't be acting like this and- No, remember I-statements, damn it. Do something right._ “I've done nothing but make an ass of myself since we got here, I'm embarrassed.” 

The tense note in Jesse's tone dissipates as his expression turns baffled. “What are you talking about?” 

“All those gifts, and there's a stocking for me, too.” Hanzo gestures nonsensically, trying to fill the gaps in his words. “They barely know me, and I only brought a single thing for each- and you, too! Do you know what's waiting at home? A book of sexy coupons. I didn't even buy them, I made them myself because I wanted you to have a gift to open while we were here-” 

“Hey, hold up a sec,” Jesse lifts his hand, brows knitted together. Even in the dim, unflattering light of the antique lamp atop his dresser, he's terribly handsome, it's the worst. “Is this about money?” 

“Not entirely.” Hanzo presses his lips together. He doesn't dare admit that the common-noun he misses most about his youth, aside from the illusion of stability and an assured future, is the _ease_ of it all. His mother and father would give each other diamonds, watches, anything their hearts desired. He would return from business trips with strings of priceless jade just to see her smile. There is no version of events that would less him dress Jesse in silk suits and tip champagne to those soft lips, and yet- 

“Oh, c'mon now,” Jesse prods, more coaxing than irritated. “Gabe and Jack are on discharge pensions, Ana's got a desk job- they're on easy street. They don't expect nothin' like that from us. Hell, half the time I ask 'em what they want and they just say 'nothing' or 'a new spine.'” 

“It's not only-” Hanzo curls and uncurls his fist. “You said it yourself. You feel like a fuck-up, too.” 

Jesse's expression informs Hanzo that he could have picked a less accusatory tone, but his boyfriend is unflappable, surprising given the timing of his nonsense. “Be upfront with me, Han. Tell me what you mean.” 

Hanzo exhales through his nose and looks away into their pile of shared laundry. “I bought them cheap gifts, I have nothing of value to contribute, I can barely _talk_ properly, for god's sake. They can't possibly-” His words cut deeper than he expects. Because he used to be good at this, miles of success between his failures instead of metres. He knew the scripts, knew what to say, how to say it, all the poses, polished as a ballet dancer. “...I've completely failed to make even a slightly good impression.” 

*** 

“Code blue,” Hanzo holds his phone up so both of them can read it, his low buzz coagulating with his anxiety and congesting his thoughts. “How the hell do I respond to this?” 

“Tell him if you want to go or not?” Satya replies with an unseen shrug. “This is barely even a code orange.” 

“Should I go?” Hanzo grimaces, time ticking by. The silence will be telling in of itself unless he makes some excuse. “I'm terrible at parties, I should just-” 

“Say yes, you fool.” Hanzo turns at Amélie's sharp tone, minty oil dripping down his neck. She has her fingers pressed to her temple, her other hand wrapped around the stem of her glass, lips disappeared as she continues. “You've already pushed him away once this month, how many chances do you expect, honestly?” 

“I didn't- it isn't the right time, we both agreed,” Hanzo insists, but it sounds mealy-mouthed even to his own ears. Jesse's gentle offer to move in together scared the hell out of him, as pathetic as that is. He just wants to maintain this balance a little longer, relish the bliss before he ruins it. 

“I do have to agree,” Satya adds, kindness spearheading her voice. “If you keep turning him down, he'll stop asking.” 

“Fair enough,” Hanzo sighs and starts typing. “It doesn't matter, anyway. I'll probably have to work every day but the twenty-fifth-” 

“Putain,” Amélie snaps, nostrils flaring when Hanzo looks back up at her. “I'm sorry, but do you have any idea what I would give to be with Gerard's family right now?” 

There's silence but for the TV and the echoes of laughter from downstairs. Hanzo and Satya share intensely uncomfortable eye contact, sipping from their respective glasses. The urge to inquire after this particular revelation is quashed by the obvious conclusion that most families wouldn't have the person responsible for the death of their son on their Christmas card list. 

Amélie's eyes flicker briefly before she flicks her wrist, backhanding the air and taking another hearty sip. “But that's not really my point. All I'm saying is that the world is more than willing to screw you out of your happiness, don't screw yourself.”

Satya hums, her bionic arm tight across her front as she inclines her head. “Sound advice, really.” 

Hanzo moves to speak, but receives a dull pat on his shoulder as the next season auto-plays. “Go wash your hair, you smell like a gum factory.” 

He chuckles darkly and exits to the bathroom. After a rinse in the sink and a few playing-it-cool texts, he returns to find Satya melting another mug full of gelatinous, all-natural overpriced goodness while Amélie takes his spot on the floor. He lets the absurdly attractive actors take his mind away for a few stiff minutes, but Jesse's enthusiastic responding texts bring him back. He watches Satya smooth the oil through Amélie's long black hair, something not quite like guilt seeping in. 

Amélie notices. “What's the constipated look for?” 

Hanzo laughs, wincing and resettling himself. “Will you two be- okay? If I'm not here next year?” They're on the verge of a tradition, after all. 

The two women share a glance, Satya speaking first. “In what way?” 

“Like- god, I don't know,” Hanzo rubs one eye, already feeling tired as carols throb from downstairs. “I feel like I'm- leaving you behind, somehow.” 

They both frown, sourness in their expressions. Satya reaches out to demurely touch his arm with her dry hand. “I know you mean well, but that was really condescending.” 

“Seriously,” Amélie snorts and pulls the grungy towel tighter around her shoulders. “Our lives aren't on hold just because we're not getting dick.” 

Satya snort-laughs while Hanzo cringes and empties his glass. “Sorry, sometimes I don't hear myself. I didn't mean it like that.” 

“It's okay, we still love and tolerate you.” Amélie chuckles, passing a new bottle back as they return to watching short-sighted fictional men cheat on their undeserving wives and experience tangential identity crises. “Just work on that before you get introduced to his parents.” 

*** 

Jesse's shoulders drop when it all comes into focus, the bared frustration on Hanzo's face- completely convinced that he showed up to some kind of test and blew it. That he was expected to impress his family, of all people, by being something besides exactly as broke and tired and ordinary as Jesse. “Damn, darlin', you really don't like yourself today, do ya?” 

Hanzo's smile is faint as he sighs. “I haven't been especially likeable.” 

“C'mere,” Jesse taps his chin until he turns for a barely-there kiss. “You don't have to _do_ anything for them to like ya, except treat me right, and you're doing just fine on that front.” He's tempted to add _You're pretty well one of the family already,_ but they've both got their irrational panic buttons. Hanzo takes care not to press his and he'll kindly do the same. 

“But I'm so- alienating, to everyone.” Hanzo turns out of his grip and rubs the side of his neck, roughly digging into the muscle. “I'm trying to be better- I didn't want to embarrass you, or ruin your family time.” He tosses a hand up in exasperation. “I'm still doing it. You don't need this on Christmas.” 

“Honey, sweetie, moonbeam sugarpie,” Jesse smirks when that prompts a laugh. A proper, if bitter one that crinkles his eyes all cute. “Slow your roll a bit, okay? You ain't done anything wrong, you're fine.” 

Hanzo sucks in a breath, Jesse recognizes the five-second meditation that Zenyatta swears by and rubs his back. “Now, mind tellin' me why you've been giving me the cold shoulder? Was it something I said?” 

Hanzo firmly shakes his head, damp hair spraying little droplets everywhere. “I should have used my words, but I didn't want to be- disrespectful, in front of Gabe and everyone.” 

“Disrespectful?” Jesse scoffs, hand coming up to knead Hanzo's neck. “We're sharing a bed, I think they know we're touching wieners.” 

Hanzo giggles outright, shoving Jesse's chest and leaving his hand there. After a moment's pause, he leans over and rests his forehead on Jesse's shoulder, his hand wandering and brushing affectionately over his t-shirt. He can damn near hear Hanzo thinking. “It used to be hard for me too, I get it.” 

“Hm?” Hanzo's head twitches up slightly, Jesse's fingers stroking over the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I spent my first Christmas with 'em in my room, bit everyone's head off and wouldn't come out for nothin'.” Jesse chuckles, a bit pained by the memory- his younger self so overwrought with so many emotions and not a fucking clue what to do with them. “Stayed in there with the cat all damn day, snuck out after they went to bed and found my presents still under the tree and a plate wrapped up for me in the fridge. Ate it in my room even though Ana told me not to, 'cause by then I was even more pissed off.” 

“Why?” Hanzo asks, his tone gentled. 

“I didn't know what to do,” Jesse shakes his head slightly, skin prickling as a cold wind rattles the window. “They did things completely different from how I was used to, felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. Like I didn't know how to be a part of it anymore.” 

His ears catch a muted, aching “Oh, Jesse,” from Hanzo's throat, his hand sliding to tip Hanzo's head up to press a kiss to his forehead. That smart mouth of his is quick with sweet words whenever Jesse needs his spirits lifted, but he's hardly ever able to accept them in turn. “I know it's tough when you're out of your element, but you're doing good, honest. I'm real proud of you.” 

Hanzo's smile, tired as it is, is the most goddamn beautiful thing Jesse's ever seen and he'll never be over it, not if he lives to be a hundred and fifty. They share a tender kiss, Hanzo's brown eyes shining for him when they part. “You are the sweetest man I've ever met.” The guilt returns, a note echoing in his tone and stealing his smile. “I'm sorry about all of this.” 

A sigh escapes Jesse's lips as he cups Hanzo's stubbly jaw. “I don't want you to be sorry all the time, honeybee. I want you to be happy.” 

Pain bleeds into Hanzo's gaze, and Jesse might not be able to ease it, but he won't look away from it. There would be plenty to discuss when they got home, when the doctor's office was open again, when they both had pants on. “...I want that, too.” 

“And you'll get it, know why?” Jesse grins, optimism sluicing past the lump in his throat as he thumbs Hanzo's cheek. “You're one tenacious motherfucker when you decide you want something.” 

Hanzo snorts, eyes down, but pulls him in by his neck for another kiss. Jesse savours the taste of him before encouraging him towards the pillows. “C'mon, let's get to sleep or Santa won't come.” 

Hanzo chuckles, hauling himself up the sagging mattress and letting himself be the little spoon for a change. Jesse wraps him up good and warm, his eyes drooping shut as soon as his arm curves around his lover's middle. Hanzo twitches out of sleep once when Gabe gets home from midnight mass, but Jesse pulls him down and coos him back to the land of Nod. 

The day dawns icy and blue, Jesse's senses dull as he stretches and flops onto his back. Chapped lips at the corner of his own draw his eyelids up, finding the most breathtakingly gorgeous man he's ever seen in a ratty t-shirt and untamed bedhead peering back at him with love in his eyes. His eyelids drooping, the grey wings at his temples fluffed up in the morning light, a rasp softening his words. “Merry Christmas, Jess.” 

“Merry Christmas, darlin'.” Jesse kisses him back and stretches again, his bed a bit more cramped than their own. “You want peanut butter toast?” 

Hanzo nods, yawning wide and scowling fiercely when Jesse calls him adorable. 

Pants acquired, recharged arm attached, and Jesse finds his way to the kitchen, empty except for Hana pleading with the espresso machine. “Come on, come on- if he drinks this, maybe he'll finish unwrapping his socks before noon.” 

“Not goddamn likely.” Jesse chuckles, obnoxiously ruffling her hair as she rushes the steaming mug up to her dad. He sings around a dry throat, frying several slices of bread in the big pan (it tastes better than the toaster and he'll arm-wrestle anyone who says otherwise). “Chicks n' ducks n' geese better scurry, when I take ya out in the surrey, when I take ya out in the surrey with the fringe on top-” 

A pair of arms slip around his waist, blue dragon scales gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the drapes. A kiss is pressed between his shoulder blades as he flips the toast, Hanzo humming against him. “That isn't a Christmas song.” 

“I'm singin' it on Christmas, aren't I?” Jesse laughs at a gentle jab to his side, but continues his serenade with no further objections. 

Hanzo puts the kettle on for himself and Ana as Hana returns to brew another mug. “Okay, we've got each of them half-awake, so we technically have one fully-awake dad.” 

“Nyergh, those jarheads can wait. That coffee is mine.” Fareeha enters, squinting and leaning on her crutch. 

“How's your knee, 'Reeha?” 

“Not swollen, it's a HanuChristmaYear's miracle.” She scoops up the mug and shuffles into the living room while Hana huffs and prepares another. “Mmm, caffeine.” 

“I need everyone to turn their Bluetooth off,” Olivia sticks her head into the kitchen, staring at her phone, holding up one finger. “It's gift-related and I promise you will like it.” 

“You said that last year and what happened?” Jesse shoots a look her way, barely restraining a smile. 

“Pft, just trust me. No bugs this time, juro por Dios,” Olivia holds her palm up but never lifts her eyes from the screen, smiling knowingly as she walks away. No such thing as a boring holiday around here, and that's just how Jesse likes it. 

Hanzo hovers in the kitchen, nibbling at his toast while Jesse fries enough for everyone, singing and listening to the parade of people and paws in and out of the bathrooms and kitchen. He lets Felix lick the remaining peanut butter from his crusts at Jesse's prompting, coming to nuzzle quietly against his side and press a cup of coffee into his hand when he abandons the pan on the back burner. 

“Thanks, darlin',” Jesse twists around to lean back against the counter. The tree is all lit up in the living room, strewn with candy canes, crackers, and cards added by Jack the midnight elf. The sun is almost too bright, bleaching the living room and bouncing off the jumble of trinkets and frames the two old men have collected over the years. 

Hanzo snickers and lifts his phone, showing Jesse a picture of Genji and Zenyatta smushed into the frame, their smiles wide and Zenyatta dolled up like a nutcracker while Genji has opted for the ugly sweater angle, the caption making Jesse chuckle. 

**GS:** He's so cute I feel personally attacked (ㄒㄒoㄒㄒ)b Merry Xmas to all!! 

“Amélie also says hello, and that she bought footie pajamas for me and Satya that we're obliged to wear for our next night in.” Hanzo snorts, snuggling closer while the others slowly congregate around the tree. 

“She still coming to the New Year's thing?” The two of them worry him at times when they get together, but he can see the change in Hanzo when she's around. It's good for both of them. 

“Of course.” Hanzo steals another kiss off his cheek when Gabe and Jack's feet sound on the stairs at last. In the beanbag by the tree, again, they crouch together as stockings are emptied, wrapping paper is torn, and gifts are piled continuously on Gabe, Jack, and Ana's laps because they're far more interested in watching than opening. 

Jesse glances over and catches a smile on Hanzo's face as they encourage Lulu to unwrap her new chew toy herself- uncreased by worry and cheeks faintly aglow, the tip of his thumb pressed to his lips and his laugh lines showing, hair and pajamas still a mess -and he suddenly remembers that he won't be going home alone this year. That he has a place in someone else's life. That Hanzo's trying all this because of him. 

He tosses Olivia her last gift- a punked-out rubber duck, much to her delight -and while she's explaining the joke to the others, he reaches over and takes Hanzo's hand, feeling the strength in his squeeze back and whispering nearly into his ear. “I'm so glad you came.” 

*** 

The penultimate episode's overdone soundtrack plays on low in the darkened living room, light flickering across the wall and painting them in reds and blues. The wine bottles sit empty on the table as Hanzo's hazy eyes peer over the collar of his sweater. Satya's fallen asleep sitting up, her spine straight and her arm out with her nails still drying from Hanzo's careful paint job, as if she's merely taking a long blink. “Should we wake her?” 

“She can sleep here, I don't mind.” Amélie slurs, sounding halfway out herself. Her hair hangs damp over her shoulder, her frame oddly small beneath the crocheted blanket she'd pulled off her bed when the temperature dipped. “She works too much. You two have matching luggage under your eyes.” 

Hanzo snorts and glances at his phone, past midnight. “Are you opening tomorrow, as well?” 

“You bet your clinically depressed ass I am,” she smirks, chasing the last sip from her glass. “You can stay over too, if you don't mind borrowing leggings and a tunic tomorrow.” 

“Eh, I could work it.” 

“Honestly? You could.” 

The two laugh softly, Satya mumbling in her sleep and drawing her knees up. Hanzo tucks a blanket neatly around her and finds he somehow isn't dreading the next day, filled with irate shoppers and crowded buses, as much as he probably should be. They'll spend New Year's much like this, and Jesse will be back before then. The anticipation almost warms him more than the actual time spent. He can only hope there's a next year for all of them, and another after that. 

He reaches across the couch and tentatively takes his friend's hand, squeezing it gently. “Merry Christmas, Amélie.” 

Amélie squeezes back, a hint of a genuine smile on her lips. “Merry Christmas, Hanzo.”

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS FRIENDS!!! Sorry I didn't get this out before Christmas! Family happened, I hope you all had a good holiday and are still in the mood for a little festive fluff. Nothing huge in this story, just an addition I wanted to add.   
> Big special thank-you to sinunamor for helping me with some of the Spanish <3! Go follow them on tumblr, they're great! 
> 
> Notes (sorry for a couple repeats for long-time readers):   
> \- Gabe and Jack are common-law at this point, Ana and Fareeha's dad are divorced but civil. Ana, Gabe, and Jack (and Gerard, whoops) were all in special forces at the same time and shared child-raising duties in a found family sort of way. Gabe and Jack started as marines, Ana started in the army, Fareeha is currently in the air force.   
> \- Olivia and Jesse are Gabe's foster-turned-adopted kids, Olivia was adopted quite a bit younger than Jesse. She works as a whitehat (mostly, ahem) hacker and moves around a lot, generally returning to the southwest U.S. where they spent most of their youth. She doesn't see Jesse as much but they're on good terms, though they both tend to regress slightly when home for any length of time, as you can see.   
> \- Fareeha was Jesse's foster sib for a brief period and was close with him after he moved in with Gabe. They're probably the closest out of the four because Jesse was Fareeha's roommate while she went to military college in the city they both still live.   
> \- Hana was adopted as a baby by Jack while he was stationed in Korea and wanted to become a father but things with Gabe weren't looking good at the time. They've returned to Busan many times and they're both fluent and Hana retains her last name (I know I'm not the first to do Dad76 + Hana but by god I love these two, their dynamic is fun). Her and Jesse didn't spend much time in the same house due to the age gap between them, but they get on really well. Hana and Olivia keep in touch digitally despite the ever-changing timezones between them.   
> \- If you think Hanzo's autism is showing, Yes. If you think this reflects my own Christmas experiences to a degree, also Yes.   
> \- Amelie is Probably Fine   
> \- (Bonus points to anyone who guesses what Hanzo, Satya, and Amelie are watching) 
> 
> And lastly a big huge thank-you to everyone reading this! I'm almost at the one-year anniversary of posting 'Crush' and I have to be a big old dork and say that writing this series and sharing it with all of you has brought so much positivity to my life. Thank you for reading yet again, I've got more stories coming, and I hope you all have a wonderful new year!


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